It's a Wonderful Normal Life
by catherder
Summary: A take-off on "It's a Wonderful Life" starring a "Dark Angel" character


IT'S A WONDERFUL NORMAL LIFE

Author: Catherder

Disclaimer: Dark Angel is owned by Charles Eglee, James Cameron, and Fox. I claim no rights to these characters, alas, although I like to play with them.

Summary :  Normal encounters an angel-in-training on Christmas Eve

Spoilers/Timeframe:  None

Rated: PG

A/N:  This was an entry in a fanfic challenge to write a take-off on _It's a Wonderful Life_ with _Dark Angel _characters

Normal paced back and forth in this apartment, feeling sorry for himself. It was Christmas Eve and he was lonely. He had vainly hoped that he'd be invited to a party, or to spend Christmas Eve with some one. But all of his employees at Jam Pony had left, most sneaking out early, and none of them wishing him "Happy Holidays." How many times had this happened? Ever since he'd been running the place, that's how long, he thought.

He was sick and tired of being laughed at, at being the butt of their practical jokes. Cretins! He was even tired of being called "Normal." Just once, he wished some one would call him "Ray." He wasn't going to put up with this any more. After the first of the year, he'd sell the place and the hell with them all. He'd leave Seattle and go some place where he would be appreciated.

At last, he stopped pacing. He poured himself a good snort from the bottle of vintage single malt he'd saved for a special occasion. Well, this _was _a special occasion. He was getting out of Dodge & the hell with everybody. Cretins!

Half a bottle of Scotch and several hours later, he was sprawled on the sofa, trying to fall asleep. There was a knock on the door. Normal staggered to his feet and jerked the door open.

"Whaddaya want?" he shouted at the intruder.

His visitor, a small dark kid who looked vaguely like one of his messengers, just walked into the apartment and looked around. "What, no decorations? Mistletoe, tree?" 

"Who needs all that crap? I'm not planning on having any visitors anyway," Normal said defensively, swaying on his feet a bit.

"I guess not, being Ebenezer Scrooge's first cousin."

"So, who are you and why are you here? You've invaded my space, guy," Normal said, pissed off that his uninvited guest had just made himself at home.

"Well, I need a favor from you."

"Yeah? Well, why should I do you any favors? I don't even know you."

"No, but you will. I want to show you something. We can be, ah, mutually beneficial."

"Right. Beat it, moron. I'm not in the mood for visitors."

"OK. Hear me out. Then if you don't buy what I'm selling, I'll split and you'll never see me again," the kid said.

"All right. I guess I'll never get you out of here any other way. State your case."

"You've seen that old movie, _It's a Wonderful Life_?"

"Yeah. Makes me gag every time I see it. Sappy crap."

"Well, it's true. And I'm like Clarence. I need to earn my wings. And guess what? You're it."

"Me? I'm not planning to off myself."

"No, but you're planning to dump Jam Pony and leave town."

"Yeah, so what."

"Well, I'm here to try and convince you not to. There are people who depend on you, who have no place else to go. I'm here to show you what would happen if you close Jam Pony down."

"Yeah, whatever. Just get it over with and get out of my apartment."

The skinny kid raised his hand and swept it over the sofa. The living room dissolved into a street scene, a freezing, snowy night. They were down near the docks in the roughest sector of town. People were huddled around a barrel full of burning trash, trying to keep warm. A few blocks away, they found the object of their search. 

Normal crouched down to get a closer look at the figure curled on the hot air grate. He squinted through the darkness and thought the bum looked familiar. Tentatively, he touched the body with his foot, but got no reaction. Finally, he knelt down and rolled the man over. 

"Sketchy. What's he doing here? Is he dead?"

"Not yet, but he will be shortly," the angel replied. "He got a bad batch of dope laced with arsenic. If he doesn't freeze to death on that grate, he'll die from poisoning."

"So this has to do with me in what way?"

"As long as he had a job at Jam Pony, he could afford a place to live. Granted, it was a dump, but it was warm and dry. And he could afford to buy his recreational pharmaceuticals from reputable dealers, not street trash, from the tips he got. He may not have been the most dependable messenger, but in his own odd way, he was loyal to you. And you, in your own odd way, kept him going. If you sell Jam Pony, the new owners will fire him in a heartbeat. Where's a stoner like Sketchy going to find another job? He'll be on the street in a month."

"Yeah, well…."

"Do you really want to see that happen? As much as he gives you a hard time, has he ever missed a day of work?"

"Well, no. He hasn't. Can we get out of here? This place gives me the creeps."

All right. Another little trip is in store." Once again the kid raised his hand and swept it over the scene. Now Normal was standing on a street in Sector Four, outside of a sleazy bar. Several working girls were plying their trade. One of them, wearing a gold lame tank top and leather hot pants, despite the temperature, looked familiar. When she turned around to yell at a potential customer, Normal nearly jumped out of his skin. It was Original Cindy.

"How can this be? Cindy's a lesbian. She wouldn't turn tricks like this."

"Well, if it's the only way to keep body and soul together, she could do it for the cause."

"What happens to her if I unload jam Pony? She was always a good employee, reliable and all. Just had a mouth on her."

"Well, that was the problem. She mouthed off to the new owner once too often and he fired her. You were always tolerant of her street smarts and her attitude. She respected you, no matter that she called you a tight-assed, rhythm-free Republican white man."

"But Cindy's no slacker. Why does she end up here?"

"The economy hasn't recovered yet. She's got a job, but it doesn't pay much. She does this to supplement her income. Especially since Max isn't around to split expenses.  "

Normal shivered, whether from the cold or the thought of Original Cindy hooking, he wasn't sure. "What happened to Max? She finally move in with the guy in the wheelchair – Logan?"

"Ah, that's another sad case. Let me show you." And with a motion of his hand, they were in yet another location. It looked like Lankford Prison. In one of the cells, Max lay, her eyes glassy, hair lank, shaking wildly.

"What's going on here?" Normal asked, appalled at her appearance.

"You know Max. She was never at work on time. You always put up with her, let her get away with it. Well, the new owner didn't. The third time in a row that she showed up late, he canned her. So, she decided to ah, resume her previous career as a cat burglar. But she never was very good at it. That's how she met Logan, you know – broke into his place and tried to rob him. Well, she got caught again, but this time her victim didn't fall in love with her. So she was hauled away to jail."

"But why is she shaking?"

"She has a neurological condition that causes seizures. It's under control with tryptophan, but she can't get any of that here. If she continues to seize like that, she'll lapse into a coma and die."

"But what about Logan? Can't he do something?"

"He could if he knew where she was, but she never told him she got fired from Jam Pony. Every time he calls, the owner hangs up on him and won't talk to him if he comes by. He's trying to trace her, but he may not be in time."

Normal looked thoughtful. "Can we go back now? I've seen enough."

As if by magic, they were standing in Normal's living room. He was once again  (still?) in his robe and slippers. He poured himself another shot and knocked it back.

"So, you mean to tell me that these lives will be ruined if I sell Jam Pony and split for parts unknown?"

"Yep. And others whose ends I haven't shown you. These people depend on you, Ray. You provide them with more than jobs – you keep them alive."

"Whew, that's a heavy responsibility. And here I thought all I was was a pain in the ass to them."

"Well, you _are_, but they like you anyway," the angle-in-training said. "So, what'll it be?"

"If you put it that way, I guess I'll stay – at least until next Christmas when I have to go through the same crap with them again."

"Deal! Great, I get my wings and you get – "

"A major source of irritation!" Normal stated firmly. "Now go away and let me finish getting plastered."

"I'm outta here, but I don't think you're going to have the opportunity to get plastered. As a matter of fact, you might want to put your pants on."

"Wha –" Normal began, but the kid had vanished. He looked around, but there was nothing to indicate that he'd had a visitor. Confused and a little annoyed, he sighed and settled down on the sofa again. 

A few minutes later, there was another knock on the door. Remembering what the kid had said, Normal ran into the bedroom to put on his trousers before going to the door. Once again he jerked it open, not knowing who or what to expect.

A crowd of young people stood there – Sketchy, Original Cindy, Max, Druid, Alec, and the others – their arms full of evergreen boughs, ornaments, and packages.

"Merry Christmas, Normal!" Original Cindy said, She seemed to be the spokesman for the group. "We figured that a cranky uptight white guy like you wasn't going to celebrate any holiday, so we decided to do something about that, whether you like it or not. So move aside. We here to decorate your crib and bring a little cheer into your miserable existence. You can just stand there or you can help. Your choice."

Flabbergasted, Normal stepped aside and let them all in. He smiled enigmatically. Maybe they weren't so bad after all. For a bunch of cretins.

THE END 


End file.
